That's what I thought
by plappermouth
Summary: Percy loses Annabeth in the war. He is broken. He is alone... Except for one, unexpected friend. OneShot


_Golden hair. Stormy eyes. A smile that makes my world stop. Or so I used to think, but then, one day, my world did stop._

_I still see it. It's like a movie, etched onto the insides of my eyelids, always ready, always there, as soon as I close my eyes. I see her spinning, twisting, her knife in her hand. She's beautiful. She's deadly. She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, catches my eye, smiles, I smile back, and then, slowly, pain spreads over her face, pulling her beautiful features apart. She falls to her knees, I see a trickle of blood run out of the corner of her mouth, I see the arrow in her back and as she falls, as she dies, I die too. Except I'm still alive. I'm breathing… How can I be breathing when she's dead._

_"Anabeth", I hear the scream, I feel it in my throat, but I don't control it. It's not me who's running towards he. It's not me who holds her in my arms, who cries, rocking back and forth. It can't be me, because I'm dead. I saw myself die, saw it when the light left her eyes. _

The rain drops make a soft sound on the window. Gentle tapping noises, calming, soothing. It's been a year. A year since we won. A year since the world didn't end, and yet it did. I was there. I saw it end. It ended the same time that I ended. It ended when Annabeth died. People say that time heals all wounds. I scoff at the thought. A year, and still I'm dead. I haven't come back to life yet. I never will. She was my life.

There's a knock on the door and I slowly get up, moving like a sleepwalker and open the door. It's Nico. It's always Nico. No one else bothers with me anymore. They tried. In the beginning. But to them a year is enough. They don't understand. There is no enough when one has died.

"Percy… you look like hell. And having been there that's saying something", he says as he walks through the door. He has grown. A lot. He's taller than me now, his dark hair messy, his dark eyes full of concern for me.

It surprised me, back then, that he'd be the only one to stick around. I always thought he hated me. I was sure of it. I thought he loved Annabeth too… Maybe that was why he understood me. Because he knew the pain, but it didn't break him. He couldn't have loved her. If he'd loved her he would be broken too. Just like me. A part of me wishes that he was. If he were broken too, then maybe we could share this burden.

"Hi"

I don't say more. I usually don't. He comes by every Wednesday. He cleans my apartment. He brings food. Without him I'd probably starve. I wish he'd stop coming.

"A year today.", he says and something in my chest tightens. A year today. I already knew that, but I didn't expect him to know it too.

"I understand your pain Percy, you know I do, but it's enough."

His voice is stern, his eyes serious, and I feel betrayed.

"Not you too… I thought you at least would understand", I say.

"You're killing yourself. Do you think that's what she would have wanted?"

He's not the first to say that. Not the first to tell me that she'd want me to live on, but he's the first to say it calmly, the first to say it with sadness in his eyes. There's no anger. I see something in his face that I've never seen before. It's more than concern… I can't put my finger on it. And finally I admit what I haven't been able to admit before.

"I don't know how."

Tears are running down my face now and I feel some of the pain in my chest lessen at the admition.

"I know. But maybe we can figure it out together", he says as he pulls me into his arms.

We stay like that for a while. Me sobbing, him holding me and then I step back, clenching my fists, looking straight at him.

"Why?"

"Why what?", he asks, his hands in his pockets, his eyes curious and…something else.

"Why didn't you give up on me?", I finally ask, afraid of the answer. I never saw it, not until he held me while I cried. Just like the first time. At the funeral. He'd held me back then, but it hadn't really registered.

He looks at the ground, at the ceiling, anywhere but at me.

"I'm your friend.", he finally says, still not looking at me.

I look around at the apartment. It's a mess. I am a mess. Then I look back at him, the boy, or rather man now, who came by and cleaned it every Wednesday. Who sat with me and talked to me, even when I did nothing but ignore him. The man who'd buy food for me. The man who never gave up on me.

"That's not it", I say, taking a nervous step towards him. He bites his lip. He's nervous, and suddenly I realize that I am nervous too. I am nervous. I feel alive. It's a strange feeling, unfamiliar almost. Almost.

I take another step and now there isn't much space between us. I look up at him.

"Why?", I ask again, barely a whisper.

He looks down at me with fear in his eyes, then surprise and then something that I might call courage. A small smile spreads over his face.

"Because I love you", he says.

"I thought as much", I reply and then I kiss him.

It's good to be alive again.


End file.
